


Mother

by rxdiansa (YukitenTheDark)



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Fighting, Original Characters - Freeform, Other, Pain, Screaming, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukitenTheDark/pseuds/rxdiansa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a friend I miss for her birthday, this is about Bianca fighting to her death after losing her adoptive mother, Rhea. Rhea belongs only to my friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother

In the eyes of the Void,   
she was but a mote of light,   
the child of a dying guardian,   
an enemy of the darkness.

And while she wished there were exceptions to the rule, to be considered a threat while she shakenly grips her rifle to her chest, tears in her eyes as she took aim, firing at the tendrils of the darkness that so rose to claim her, there could be no such thing. 

Flashes of pale, ghostly distortions, Taken, rushed before her, servants of the Void, swarming, aiming and firing in the same way. Ready to steal what life of her she had left after they’d ripped her mother from her hands, laughing like hyenas in the safety of shadow. 

And she was tired, so tired, glaring down her sights, bleary-eyed, huffing, screaming for her mother’s soul, pulling the trigger if only to make a dent in the darkness’ hordes, in Oryx’s very same quest for vengeance. And Rhea would beg her to flee, to live in her stead if only to keep her safe, alive, push her to find happiness–

But the lightning on her hands, the storm in her eyes, found a child lost and afraid on the precipice of the Void, sapphires filled to the brim with sorrow, the phantoms of a youth that should’ve never been lived, a soul ready to dive in at the mercy of the very darkness they so denied, fought against. A child weilding a bow with no string, a gun with no flame, jammed rifles and a broken blade – and the electricity flowing through her chose to calm, to shield, to nurture, to love the broken spirit that cowered before it, weeping in the wake of a mission gone wrong, the cruelty of the Void, pains she tried so hard to ignore, memories she tried even harder to forget.

And though she wanted so desperately to disappear, to fade in the arms of the darkness, the Warlock gave the Hunter a reason not to. And she kept her in the warmth of a brilliant blue radiance, exchanging soft words in the Tower East, observing, revlling in the light of the Speaker’s displays, watching the clouds spread and fade above Earth on the city perimeters, turn into the rays of the sun at the Hellmouth before diving in. Rhea tore the terrified Bianca right out of the darkness and scrubbed her clean of the black stains, washed the blood from her hair and rubbed the bruises from her eyes. She shook the dirt from her armor, fine-tuned her arms, and gave her time, a friend, a bond. 

As Bianca drew her bow,   
Sustaining shot after shot to the chest,  
Watching as her Ghost was crushed,  
Slammed against a Hive crystal,  
Claws raking through her armor like aluminum,  
And released her three arrows derived from the darkness,   
A weapon, a tool, a biting reminder that the light could be strong,  
She screamed for her mother.

 

 

“You robbed me–” and the pain flooding her body, blood spilling out of her mouth like a fountain, shattered her soul, the tears in her eyes claiming the skin of her face before the burn of the Void even had a chance. 

“You r-robbed me… of the only woman that respected me–”

She took up her sword, flames roaring to life on its edge, and swung at a cluster of shadows rearing up to flail at her, the one she missed managing to tear away the remains of her helm. But she pressed forward, turning on her heel in a dance of anger, the burning blade meeting its throat only for another wave to claw from pools of maggots and blackness. 

“–the only woman I looked up to–”

Though more and more came, though blood continued to flee from her veins, there wasn’t an ounce of her that would give in to the Void, allow for Oryx to win this battle. The darkness could taste her iron, even steal it all the same, but not before she cut it down. It wouldn’t rob her of her life until it was time. It couldn’t - no, not until she was done. The violence that scrambled in her head, the tears that bit down on her eyes, every slash, every vicious growl, and every landed blow to her legs, her chest, her belly, her arms would signify the end of this fight. Just a little longer.

”–the only other who would welcome me–”

And a knight would swing, the flat of his crooked blade colliding with the side of her head, launch her into the very same crystal her Ghost was ground into. Staggered, blinded, blood dripping from the wounds, dizziness, nausea, fever, aching bones, broken fingers - the resulting waves of pain in the realization of so many injuries dragged a scream from her lungs but, still she fought. Fumbling with the grip of her blade, hardly even able to hold it, she peeled herself out of the cracks in the crystal, running on rage, sorrow, agony, adrenaline, she propelled herself forward, shade-stepping sideways, forward, back, leaping above, and buried her blade into the knight in a smooth, downward motion. She can’t go on for much longer…

“You stole my MOTHER from me, tore ‘er apart before my eyes, cackling from your fucking throne!”

She spat her lifeblood into the eyes of a wizard and slashed it too, watched it crumble into a pool of darkness, before falling to her knees, her heart hammering in her chest and the pain, oh the aching pain, touched on even the furthest reaches of her being, invading the safest strongholds, taking hold of the child once so terrified, so alone, now so full of fight, so ready to unleash her flame, and gripped her so tightly, dragging her into the Void. And she screamed in defiance, clawing at the dirt, the bones in an attempt to reach for Rhea’s body – buried in the safety of the altar, looking over the Rings of Saturn – flame so desperately trying to meet the storm as vision faded, an onslaught of Hive, of Taken converging, thirsty for her blood, for her life - for what remained. And all that child could do was cry, beg for her mother’s arms.

If it weren’t for her, that child would’ve never known kindness, safety, warmth. If it weren’t for her, that child would’ve never grown, drug herself from the hole her parents had dug her. If it weren’t for her, she would’ve never known love, family. If it weren’t for her, if it weren’t for her, if it weren’t for her, if it weren’t for her…

And she let out a final scream in her defeat as the life fled her bones, embracing the cold expanse of darkness in the hopes that her mother would be there to hold her hand.

“Rhea!”


End file.
